


Travel Through the Stars

by Moonrose91



Series: Adventures of the Crew of the Firefly-class Transport Azanulbizar [4]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Firefly Fusion AU, M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moonrose91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Crew travels on, ties a bit stronger than they were before.</p><p>Not that Thorin will admit it in a thousand years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Softie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Syxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syxx/gifts).



Thorin took over piloting _Azanulbizar_ from Bofur as, after trying to go to sleep for four hours, gave up and headed up. While Bofur gave his token protest, Thorin noticed he had gone willingly.

While auto-pilot was fine and dandy, there was nothing like piloting the ship with only minimal technical aid. Nothing but the Black and the ship and…

A Hobbit who was peeking up at him from the secondary set of steps that up from the front of the ship instead of from the crew’s quarters. “What are you doing there?” Thorin demanded sharply.

The Hobbit tried to duck down and Thorin let out a long, annoyed, sigh that caught in his throat. “Your vocal cords work. What are you doing up in a forbidden area?” Thorin demanded.

“Forbidden?” the Hobbit questioned as he got up his courage to come back up.

“Yes. Not allowed to be here,” Thorin retorted.

“You’re here,” the Hobbit stated.

“I’m allowed. You are not. So…why are you here?” Thorin stated and Bilbo turned to stare out the viewport, before he looked back at Thorin, slowly standing up.

“It is a long way through the dark,” Bilbo stated, staring at Thorin as he padded closer, his steps hesitant and hunched over slightly, as if trying to avoid Thorin’s rage.

A bit late for that, considering Thorin was already irritated with the Hobbit. “Everyone deserves a light,” Bilbo finished and he carefully set one of the soft glow lights Hobbit parents gave their children for long trips through the Black on the panel.

It had probably been passed down through the generations and by the time Thorin focused up on where Bilbo had been standing, the Hobbit was gone.

* * *

Thorin frowned at his nephews as they tried to explain how the ‘mysterious hammocks that we have no idea of their origin’ came to be set up in the engine room. His frown only deepened while Fíli’s shoulders slumped in defeat and Kíli’s shoulders slowly started slumping, even as he changed his argument from a very poor attempt at a lie to explaining how having a pair of hammocks in the engine room was useful.

Slowly, but surely, even Kíli fell silent and Thorin resisted the urge to sigh. He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, and he knew it. He should tell them to sleep in their shared quarters, to stop living in the engine room, and to maybe, possibly, actually learn how to survive outside of a ship.

Thorin turned to face the hammocks that hung above a portion of the engine room that was basically clear. A few parts were nearby, but were in no way hindered by the hammocks, something that only Kíli could have set up properly. A great deal of time and effort had been put into adding the hammocks to the engine room, to turn it into a bedroom, and Thorin resisted the urge to sigh.

Or snarl.

Either were viable options at this point.

“One jam and I’m tossing them out the airlock,” Thorin warned and stormed out of the engine room.

* * *

Rohan was a garden planet, specializing mainly in either farming or horse breeding. Dwarves, and especially Thorin, rarely found a reason to go to the place, and no, he did not land because Gandalf said Hobbits needed sunlight. Nor did he land because his nephews wanted to see what Rohan _really_ looked like in person, not just through a viewport.

A few people of Rohan wanted (needed) some illegal fencing hidden as legal fencing and it was a good way to stock up on needed _things_ (and some platinum) and that was _all_.

* * *

Thorin was ignoring Dwalin and he would keep ignoring Dwalin until the other Dwarf stopped smirking at him like he knew everything there was to know about Thorin.

He did, but Thorin's life-long friend and companion (and bed mate) didn't need to rub it in.

“What?” Thorin demanded as Dwalin’s smug grin, craftily hidden behind his beard, grew too much to be ignored.

“Yer such a softie,” Dwalin stated and Thorin growled lowly at the comment.

“If it isn’t yer nephews, it is the Hobbit you say you despise wringing every little thing they desire from your stern nature,” Dwalin continued and Thorin did not hesitate to throw a pillow at his friend, as everything else was too damn expensive to risk breaking against his friend’s rock hard head.

Dwalin only laughed at him.


	2. Ponies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo calling Glorfindel "Glorfy" in this portion is thanks to the inspiration given by Panda.
> 
> I decided that Bilbo calls Glorfindel "Glorfy" when he's, emotionally (and a bit mentally), a small child, and Fin when he's older.
> 
> This takes place at the end of the last one as these one-shots are probably going to do a lot of chronological jumping.

Bilbo stared out across the green of Rohan, wiggling excitedly as the breeze rushed across his face. He looked up at Glorfy, who was clutching at his shoulder and looked back out at all the  _green_. He hadn't seen so much  _green_  in so long. There was a buzz through his mind, and ebb and flow to the feelings, but  _green_  overrode all of that. He stepped forward, making a sound when Glorfy tugged him back and stared back up again, eyes widening.

Glorfy's eyes were darting and he reached up to tug at Glorfy's silver coat. "Glorfy?" he called and the blond Elf looked down at him.

His eyes were sharpening slightly, but he was Glorfy still.

Bilbo didn't particularly like Glorfindel. Glorfindel was dark and scary, a towering figure bathed in soot and flame and regret. A towering warrior who was soaked in the blood of his enemies while the blood of his friends and kin lapped constantly around his ankles.

Glorfy, however, was soft and gentle. The Healer, the Caretaker, the one who kept Bilbo together as best he could, considering the Blue Hands had done their best to rip him apart. "Glorfy, can I go?" he asked and Glorfy looked back across the green before he withdrew his hand.

"Keep within sight,” Glorfy stated and Bilbo squealed before he ran down, stopping dead at the foot of the ramp.

He flexed his toes in the grass and giggled before he ran forward and flopped down, ignoring how close he came to Soul Shield’s boot. Instead he rolled over, staring up at him as the blue eyed Dwarf stared back down at him. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I am absorbing the sun for nutrients,” Bilbo answered as he blinked up at the Dwarf.

He liked being near the Dwarf, when he was awake. His soul burned bright, not like Glorfy’s does, but still shining brilliant, shifting to cover everyone, even if he swore he didn’t touch any of them.

Bilbo knew, though. He knew that the Captain would shield them all body and soul, a bright protection between the Crew and the rest of the world.

The name fit, the Name fit, all flitting out and…

“Ponies!” Bilbo squealed, up on his feet and tearing off across the green, thoughts and promises alike lost to the grass.

* * *

“Bilbo!” Glorfindel called, though he knew it was already pointless.

Bilbo was taking off to who-knows-where, shouting about ponies. “Well get him Master Elf!” Kíli promised as he took off after the fleeing Hobbit tween before Glorfindel could protest.

“I’ll keep Kíli from doing anything bad,” Fíli promised as he took off after his brother and Glorfindel made a strangled sound leaving his throat.

He then grabbed a bag of medical supplies and tugged his coat further over his shoulders before he took off, only to get stopped by someone (Gandalf) grabbing the back of his coat. “Be at peace, Glorfindel. There is little trouble to be found in Rohan,” Gandalf stated and Glorfindel fought to get himself free.

He huffed and straightened his jacket before he glared. “If there is trouble to be found, those three will find it. They found it in five minutes in an empty room. This is a whole _planet_! I think I have every right to be worried over _my_ Charge!” Glorfindel shouted before he took off after the missing forms.

Gandalf merely sighed and, with a small bow of the head to Thorin, followed after Glorfindel.

It wouldn’t do for a High Elf formerly of Gondolin, former Head of the Golden Flower, to lose what little was left of his sanity so soon after all.

* * *

Æbbe raised an eyebrow as she watched two Dwarves, one as fair as one of Rohan, the other with the coloring of the Nobility of Gondor, walked over to where a herd of ponies were mingling near the stone wall, a small Holbytla with them. The brunet Dwarf easily lifted the Holbytla up to sit him on the wall.

She leaned against the side of the low stables as she watched the ponies crowd right up to the Holbytla in a way the never had before. Constantly nosing and pushing towards him, nuzzling whatever they could and one pony, the head mare, being bold enough to lean right up to nuzzle into his curls.

She heard a strangled sound and glanced to the side to find a golden haired Elf and a grey clothed Wizard (Greyhame come again it seems) standing just out of the way. “Be at peace, Glorfindel. They will hardly gobble your charge up,” Greyhame stated and Glorfindel made another keening noise, shifting to the balls of his feet, hands curling into the fists.

Æbbe glanced back at the Holbytla and the Dwarves, resisting the urge to cackle when she saw the way the ponies were swarming around the Holbytla, who had slipped right into the field. The Dwarves looked a little panicked, trying to get the Holbytla _out_ before someone saw, if the way they were trying to grab him was anything to go off of.

She snickered a bit when she watched the Holbytla walk away, pausing to scratch at stubborn spots on various ponies, even the ones with the hardest heads brushing up for attention. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for just two helpers like that, even if they were moon-brained. Not their fault if that was so, but just two like that Holbytla, and moving the ponies about would be easier.

“Ponies,” the Holbytla greeted as more than one nuzzled his hair, the black lead mare easily stepping between the small one and the rowdy yearlings who had joined them recently.

“Bilbo!” the brunet Dwarf protested as he leaned over the wall, though the blond kept him from falling over the wall.

“We can’t go in there!” the blond hissed and the brunet sent him a glare.

“But… Fíli,” the brunet protested.

Fíli looked around and then headed towards the gate. “We’ll just have to be…careful,” Fíli stated and Æbbe covered her face slightly as she waited for the insanity to be unleashed.

Thankfully, this was a small herd, only about ten strong, but oh, rounding them up when they rushed through that gate was going to be a _pain_. At least the Holbytla, or Bilbo, was behaving, scratching at one of the head mare’s trouble spots, right behind her withers.

She peeked through her fingers as one of the Dwarves began to open the gate and winced as the chestnut gelding with the flaxen mane and tail, who always caused the most problems, immediately bolted out, shoving the Dwarves off their feet. The rest of the ponies quickly followed, omitting the lead mare, who stayed right next to Bilbo, who was watching them all run off.

The Holbytla watched the ponies rush out and her eyes widened as he suddenly was up on the mare’s back. She heard Glorfindel make a strangled sound, even as she watched Bilbo shift his weight, the mare taking off after the ponies. “I got ‘em,” Bilbo called as he rode out, the mare moving to cut off a bay before she chased him back.

Fíli shut the gate behind the bay, the mare moving away from the brunet as they continued to chase after the escaped ponies. Behind her, she could hear Greyhame constantly soothing the Elf, though she didn’t blame the Elf for not calming down.

If the Stormcrow was telling _her_ to calm down, she hardly would, and she smiled as soon all that was left was the chestnut gelding. The mare’s ears were pinned back as she began to drive him back, the gelding squealing, shifting to challenge her before backing down quickly, even as she watched the Holbytla leaning over the mare’s neck, trying to reach the gelding. “Bad pony,” Bilbo scolded and she clapped a hand over her mouth as she watched him.

She watched him shift his body language on the mare’s back until they had the gelding pinned against the stone wall, though nowhere near close to the gate. “You got your run. Go back,” Bilbo ordered as he reached forward, shoving at the gelding’s rump to do so.

He squealed and did a tiny buck, which had the mare shifting to pin him in a more literal sense against the wall. It was obvious the gelding wasn’t going to move and she watched as Bilbo slipped off before walking out of sight. Fíli looked ready to follow him and Æbbe watched as he trotted right up to her, holding the flat of his hand out to her. “Apple, please,” he inquired and she fished an apple out of her apron pocket.

“You going to bribe him little Holbytla?” she inquired.

“Yes,” Bilbo answered and walked back down, ignoring the Dwarf who looked thoroughly scandalized that someone had seen them.

Soon, however, the gelding and mare were in the field, the pair munching on their half of the shared apple, and Glorfindel was striding across to them. “Glorfy!” Bilbo greeted and the Elf easily scooped the Holbytla up into his embrace, turning on the Dwarves.

“You two are never going to watch him again or I may just go gray,” he answered before he turned, giving a polite bow to Æbbe.

“If you ever tired of wandering, Master Elf, I could find a place for you and your Charge here,” she stated.

The Elf smiled and gave another polite bow. “Thank you for the offer, Horse Mistress, but I’m afraid we’d never take you up on it,” he stated before he strode off, the Dwarves quickly following after him.

“Don’t tell the Captain!” the brunet cried and Æbbe chuckled a little as she shook her head before she realized that the Wizard remained.

She looked over at him and was surprised when he handed her a bag of platinum. “We were never here,” he intoned and she nodded before she watched them leave.

No one would have believed the story anyway. “Just two of him,” she murmured softly.

* * *

“What trouble did you two get in?” Thorin demanded.

“Trouble? I don’t remember any trouble,” Fíli stated at the same time Kíli said, “Who told?”

Fíli didn’t hesitate to reach up and smack Kíli upside the head. Thorin hid his chuckle behind his hand as his nephews began to roll around on the floor once more.


	3. Thick Syrup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh...this is kinda Mature?
> 
> Things are implied.

"What's with the light?" Dwalin asked and Thorin hummed softly as he stared at the crystal whose glow filled the Captain’s Quarters.

“Our resident Hobbit gave it to me. He insists that everyone deserves a light,” Thorin answered softly.

“He’s right,” Dwalin agreed as he shifted to wrap around Thorin, his heavy bulk pinning Thorin to the bed.

“Get _off_ you Oliphant!” Thorin growled as he shoved at Dwalin, who only chuckled.

“Not just yet, I don’t think,” Dwalin murmured, running his nose along the edge of Thorn’s ear before he continued to nuzzle down along his bearded jawline, Thorin’s hips bucking slightly as he tipped his head back.

“I hate you,” Thorin growled and Dwalin paused.

“No ye don’t. Do ye want me to stop?” he responded and Thorin shook his head.

“Don’t you dare!” Thorin snarled and Dwalin let out a sharp laugh before he began to nuzzle down Thorin’s neck.

* * *

Bilbo felt as if his head was filled with thick syrup, that was honey sweet and heady and…

He didn’t really like it while at the same time it made him feel happy. He sighed and wiggled out of bed, walking over to Fin. “Fin?” he called and he looked up from his book.

“What’s wrong Bilbo?” Fin asked as Bilbo crawled up into Fin’s bed, flopping down next to him to bury himself into Fin’s side.

He reached through the air, grabbing at the golden light that spilled out. Fin chuckled a little and immediately Bilbo felt that odd, syrup thick feeling leave his mind as Fin’s Soul Light wrapped around him, shielding him from the valley they drifted in and Bilbo let out a soft sigh. “Better pen tithen?” Fin murmured and Bilbo nodded.

“What are you reading?” Bilbo asked.

“Basics in Robotic Engineering, from Varda Reaches Corporation,” Fin responded and Bilbo cuddled closer.

“Section on automatic relays, please,” Bilbo stated and Fin chuckled as he pulled Bilbo closer, turning to that section obediently.

They settled in silence as they read over the section together, Bilbo grumbling on occasion. “Fin, you are reading slow on purpose!” Bilbo protested after the fifth time and Fin laughed, hugging the Hobbit close.

“No, I’m not pen tithen, you just read fast,” Fin corrected and Bilbo let out an agitated groan that made his throat feel torn up before he cuddled back against Fin’s side.

Fin reacted by pulling him closer before he reached up to run his fingers through Bilbo’s hair. He nuzzled up into the attention, feeling his eyes starting to slide closed. He whined a bit, even as Fin hushed him gently. “It’s all right pen tithen, I’ll mark your spot,” Fin promised softly and Bilbo slid into sleep.


End file.
